


Build a Strong Enough Foundation

by GinnyK



Series: The World Turned Upside Down [11]
Category: Bull (TV 2016)
Genre: Friendship, post ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-22 22:53:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16606949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinnyK/pseuds/GinnyK
Summary: Post Ep for Season 3 Episode 7 A Girl Without Feelings.Marissa's POV





	Build a Strong Enough Foundation

Alex knocking on my door brings me out of the funk I’m currently wallowing in. 

“I’m heading out.  See you in the morning,” he says from the doorway.  I’ve noticed Alex doesn’t come let me know he’s leaving on the days Jason leaves before he does.  It’s almost 5:30 and I assume Jason is still here as he’s been pretty good about letting me know when he’s leaving for the day.  “He’s running on the treadmill,” Alex says, answering my unasked question, a skill he seems to have, especially when my questions involve Jason.

“Thanks.  How is he?” I asked, cringing a little at my question.  It’s not like I can’t go ask the man himself how he’s doing.  I mean my legs work, my voice works and he’s a 5 second walk away.

“Quiet.  Think he’s still processing the case a bit,” Alex answers honestly.  “I know it’s been just business between the two of you lately and believe me, I understand but I think he could use a friend about now.”  I just give a little nod.  “Sorry if I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong,” he adds quietly.

“You’re not.  Alex, I honestly don’t know how Jason and I would have managed these last few months without you.  Between your assistant tasks, helping out with whatever we all need and being the ad hoc  sounding board for the two of us, you have proved you are invaluable.”

“Thanks,” he says.  He’s blushing I’m sure but I can’t tell as my office is dark except for the desk lamp.  I’m still trying to get used to the end of Daylight Savings Time. 

“Get going so you make your bus.  Tell Andy I said Hi.”

“I will.  For the record he’s still talking about his visit here and of course seeing _Hamilton_.”

“I’m glad.  It meant a lot to Jason to have him come here and to be able to send the two of you to the show.”

“I know. Goodnight,” Alex replies as he heads for the elevator.  He glances over his shoulder after pressing the button looking to see if I’m heading for Jason’s office. 

I am.

*****

The office is quiet as I head for the kitchen to grab a drink.  As we are not in the middle of a case, most people have taken the opportunity to head home at a decent hour.  In the quiet I can hear the pounding of Jason’s feet on the treadmill.  I grab a bottle of water for each of us and make my way to his office, completely unsure of what I’m even going to say.  That’s an odd thing for me to feel.

He’s still running when I get to the doorway.  As usual he has earbuds in and no glasses so I’m able to watch for a minute without being noticed.  He’s been good about running 3 or 4 times a week, which is surprising.  If he’s in the office at lunch time he will rest on his own for a little while after eating.  I haven’t even been enforcing that “rule”; he seems to know when he needs to a take a break. As for drinking, he definitely is not doing it in front of me.  I don’t think he’s taken the time to replenish his supply at home and any whiskey here is under lock and key.  The only “rule” we’re struggling with is leaving at a decent hour.  Which given the nature of TAC is difficult.  I think the fact that Taylor has put her foot down more than once about needing to leave has caused him to at least stop and think about the hours he keeps.

“Hey, I’ll be done in a few minutes,” he says as he catches my eye.  He pulls the earbuds out and tosses them in the general direction of the coffee table, missing by a good foot.  I pick them up and put them on his desk as I kick off my shoes and settle down on the window ledge thankful for the fact I wore pants today.  I watch the lights of the city while he finishes up. He slows to a brisk walk and eventually stops.  A trip to the bathroom to wipe his face and a few minutes of stretching finishes up his routine.  He kicks off his gray sneakers and sits at his desk, turning his chair around.  As he opens the bottle of water he leans back and puts his feet up on the ledge, nudging mine a bit

“Nice run?”

“As nice as running on the treadmill can be I suppose.  Should probably try outside once in a while, change things up a little.  You could join me,” he teases, knowing the fact that I am not now, never was, and probably never will be, a runner.

“Not happening buddy, but I think Alex would be up for running if you asked.”

“Probably.  I’ll think about it before it gets too cold,” he mutters are he looks out the window.  He reaches behind him to check the time on his cell.  “I am still not used to the time change, feels like about 8:00 and it’s not even 6:00.  Did you eat?”

“No and I assume you didn’t either?”

“No and I am too tired to shower and go out.  Want to order in, or do you have plans?” he asks, obviously unsure of how I will respond as it has been “all business” between us lately.

“Food sounds good.  I’m going to see if I have something to change into in my office.  I’ll be back.  Order Chinese.”  He knows what I like; I don’t need to place my order with him.

“Hope you have a shirt,” he calls out as I hit the bullpen.  “I only have one clean one and I’m putting it on.”

“Shut up,” I call over my shoulder.  It’s not like we don’t have a closet full of TAC shirts, hats and sweatshirts.

*********

Half an hour later we’re in the kitchen with our food, shrimp and broccoli, pork lo mein, steamed dumplings all to share.  His appetite, which seems to come and go lately, is good tonight.  But he looks a bit tired and lost.  That look seems to come with every difficult case we’ve had since his heart attack.  And to be honest, most of them have been rather difficult, each for their own reasons.  We eat in silence for a little while, and that’s okay with me.  In the words of Crash Davis, sometimes it’s nice to just….”be”.

I eventually look up from my food and Jason is looking at me like he wants to say something, chopsticks waving in the air a little like he’s trying to get his thoughts together. 

“Care to share with the class Jason? Or am I supposed to knowing what you’re thinking?  Some kind of chopstick semaphore perhaps?” I tease as he spears a dumpling with a chopstick.

“Sorry, I’m just, I don’t know…”

“Still trying to process the case?” I guess.  He touches the tip of his finger to his nose, letting me know I’m right.  “Do you believe she’s innocent?” I ask, jumping right in to the conversation with both feet.  The look on his face tells me maybe I should have started with a slightly more innocuous question.

“Oh, she is far from innocent.  Do I think she killed her brother, no.  Do I think she had something to do with the planning of it, probably,” He sighs as he puts down one carton of food and picks up the other.  It’s pretty much how we eat Chinese, passing cartons back and forth, instead of just using plates.  He slurps up a lo mein noodle, ending with a piece of something on his chin, in the darkened room I can’t tell what it is.  I motion for him to lean over a little and I wipe it off with a napkin.  “I feel guilty,” he admits.  That does no surprise me at all.   

“I know.  I think closing your psychology practice was harder than making the decision to open TAC in the first place.”

“I think maybe it was,” he admits as he takes a drink from his bottle of water.  “I think things worked out pretty well,” he teases as he waves his chopsticks around the office.  “But still I can’t help but feel a little guilty.”

“There’s nothing to feel guilty about.  You transitioned all your patients to other providers.  Nobody was left without a plan. And you even kept seeing a few people on the side for the first few months you were running this place.”

“I did,” he sighs as he takes a piece of shrimp from the carton in between us.

He doesn’t elaborate further and I know if I want this conversation to continue and I truly believe he needs to talk about some of this, it’s going to be up to me to keep things rolling along.  “What’s the goal when you start therapy with someone?” I ask, trying to keep him talking and to get him to take a step back from the guilt.

“To build a strong enough foundation so the patient can help themselves,” he said with a small smile.  “If that’s what they want,” he adds.

“Exactly, and we know that if a patient does not want to get better, they won’t.  You and I both know Tally doesn’t want to get better.  She wields her diagnosis like a shield, something to hide behind, something to explain her awful behavior.  She sees it like a convenient excuse, one she’s been using since she was a child.  People with Antisocial Personality Disorder are pros at that, it’s textbook behavior.”

“I know,” Jason sighs as he sets down his chopsticks and pushes his bottle of water back and forth between his hands, the bottle sliding freely in the condensation on the counter.  He’s getting rather fidgety, not a good sign.

“I know you’ve spent time going over old session tapes with Tally.  Did you find anything you missed, anything you wish you had done differently?” I ask, pretty sure I already know the answer.

‘No.  I just wanted, after all these years, for things to have turned out differently for her,” he mutters as he slides off the stool and starts to pace around.

“Honestly Jason, did you really expect they would be any different?” I ask over my shoulder as I clear away the remains of our dinner.

“No,” he sighs as he opens the fridge and roots around a little.  I’m sure he has no idea what, if anything, he’s looking for.  Forget the fact that the door is glass and he can pretty much see everything with the door closed.  I reach around him and gently close the door.  He goes back to his pacing while I wipe off the counter.  “Chunk was right, you know,” he mutters out of the blue as he takes another lap around the kitchen.

“He was and I hope you realize how much it took for him to stand up to you like that.”

“I do. You know what they say….if you’re dumb surround yourself with smart people, if you’re smart, surround yourself with smart people who disagree with you.”

“Hamilton?” I guess, knowing that’s not right, but in the case of Jason and Alex, it’s at least a good guess.

“Aaron Sorkin,” he says with a grin.  “But Hamilton is always a good guess.”

“How’s your foundation?” I ask, keeping my question vague on purpose.

I can tell he wants to just mutter “fine” and hope I’m okay with that answer.  But he certainly knows me well enough to know that answer is not going to fly.

“I’m feeling better.  The Lexapro has finally kicked in fully and I feel a little brighter, a little more hopeful, a little less lost,” he says quietly as he hops up to sit on the counter.  “Vistaril helps when things get a little out of control.  I only take it once or twice a week.”

“Good. You do look better, healthier, happier,” I say as I cross the room and stand in front of him.  “I’m proud of how you’ve turned things around these past few weeks.”

“Thanks to you and Alex,” he says with a smile as he reaches out to put his hands on my shoulders.  He pulls me forward a little and kisses my forehead.  We don’t bother teasing each other about “boundaries”, we are the only two here right now. I give into my need for some physical contact and wrap my arms around him, giving him a real hug for the first time in a long time.  “You ready to get out of here?” he asks as he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“Yeah. I know you already ran but feel like a walk around the block?  It’s a nice night out,” I suggest, suddenly finding myself not quite ready to say goodnight to my best friend.

“Sounds like a plan.  Coffee?” he asks as he slides off the counter, nearing ending up on the floor as he didn’t quite remember he was only wearing socks.

“Only if it’s decaf, the last thing you need is any stimulants,” I tease.

“Deal,” he agrees with a smile.

*****

It is a beautiful night out, warm for November with clear skies and just a little breeze.  I’m sure we make quite the odd looking pair right now.  Me in my work clothes and Jason in shorts, sneakers and a TAC hoodie.  We stop for decaf at Dunkin and start walking with no particular destination in mind.  We chat about nothing in particular and it feels nice. It’s been basically all business between us for weeks and I’m happy for the change.

We eventually end up back at TAC.  Neither of us brought our bags down with us so we head back up to grab them.  I grab my tote, figuring he’d meet me right back at the elevator.  No such luck.  I find him sitting at his desk on the computer.

“What are you doing?” I sigh, probably a little harsher than I needed to.

“Just answering an email.  Driver will be downstairs in a few minutes, he’ll drop you off and then come back for me,” he says as he pushes the sleeves of his sweatshirt up a bit.

I look at him warily for a second, trying to decide if I trust that he’s telling the truth. “Okay, but I’m going to Facetime you in an hour and I’d better see your apartment in the background,” I tease as I cross the room towards him.  He crossed his heart and gives a little grin.  I press a kiss of the top of his head.  “This was nice,” I whisper against his hair.

“It was.  Sleep well.”

“You too.”  I give him one glance over my shoulder before turning towards the elevator.  He’s typing away, pen clenched in his teeth, head bobbing a little in time to the music coming through his phone.  I can’t help but smile at the sight.

*****

As I settle back into the soft leather of his car I smile and think about the foundation of our friendship.  Despite all we’ve been through lately, I think it’s stronger than ever. And that just makes me happy.


End file.
